The Great Gatsby A Modern Parody by A & A
by The Quidditch Gals
Summary: Well, to be blunt, its a parody about The Great Gatsby. What more do you people need? Just read it! Its funny. Trust us, we're experts!


The Great Gatsby -A Modern Parody by A&A

This Latest Masterpiece by:

THE QUIDDITCH GALS... MINUS WEASLEY GIRL

Character List 

Daisy - Ditzy Blonde, Money Grabber, Poor Mother, Likes to Laze About, Played by Trixie Abbeght

Jay Gatsby - Daisy's formerly poor lover, pompous, focused on one thing, Daisy Played by Quintus Bodile (pronounced Bod-ill-a)

Tom- Daisy's husband, a rich man who thinks he's better than everyone else Played by Theobald Baustigeghck

Meyer Wolfshiem - The rough and tough gangsta who shot off his own toe Played by Lalo Phillis

Jordan - The manly man-woman, Played by La'Shawnda Fellownt

Myrtle - Lusciously fat, Tom's big-boned, voluptuous lover. Played by Willetta Ignacia

Mr. Wilson - A royal idiot, pock-marked, greasy, smelly, Played by Adao Purvis

Spawn of Satan: also known as Pammy in book, description on page 13

Nick - Good listener, friend to all, Barney-like, generally all around good-guy, played by Jim Bob Joe and Ally-Mae-George :)

Random Quotations from Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl!

Chapter 1

When I was a lad living in England, me motha raised me 'erself. When she snuffed it, I came here to find my father. I found him all right, in a rundown woe-begotten ally in the glittering lights of New York City. He had enough breath in his rum-soaked body to tell me that he wasn't my father. Then he gave me a $20 and told me to get the hell out of there.

But did I?

NO.

'Give me a piece of advice you rummy! Before you catch a ride on the midnight express.' I said angrily shaking my fist at him.

"Before you judge me, remember the Alamo!" he said in a drunken stupor, sloshing spit down his shirt. "And before you judge anybody else, walk a mile in their shoes. And if they get mad, at least you'll be a mile away, and you'll have their shoes, too!" insert drunken giggles and hysteria

'Okay. Thanks pops.' I walked away shaking my head slowly. Drunken old man...what can you do?

So, alone and distraught I wandered. In the dark. In the cold. Down the wild jungle of glittering lights they call New York City.

And eventually I meandered my way to West Egg. And my tiny flat that I borrowed without permission. cough

It was an odd flat, my flat, but it was my flat. Well, not really...oh well.

There he was...Jay Gatsby. A handsome man with a suit made out of money. Standing alone, weeping openly, casting his emotions to the pitiless stars and emotionless black void of the night sky. There was just enough moonlight to see his form, but his piercing wails cut through the stoic silence of the night.

Feeling depressed and a tad down on my luck, I walked inside my flat wondering about the poor old blighter next door.

And the next day I hitched a ride over to that place they call East Egg. I was during that time while I was hobbling along begging for money door to door that I happened to stumble upon, literally, the mansion of my dear cousin, Daisy.

"Rich stuck up Daisy! I haven' t seen you since you was a tot!" I cried gleefully.

"Hobo cousin! How's your run amok father!?" She responded, not hardly propping herself up from the couch on wheels that she had propelled via two canes, rather like a cross-country skier.

I wondered if there was a loo in there...but I decided to ask later.

"How are you dear, smelly cousin? I would get up to hug you, but...its too much work, frankly you smell, and you're wearing the same clothes I saw you in last...and that was ages ago...so, just stand there, at the door. We'll come with our couches and stay far enough away that we can't smell you, but still can see you," Daisy said in a simpering voice before lifting her head slightly and rotating the couch to face Jordan. "Come over here dear, meet me no good hobo cousin...but don't get too close, darling, he might damage your white flowy dress."

Jordan propelled herself forward in three easy strokes. The problem was that that white flowy dress was incredibly flowy...so much that it got caught in the jet stream from her powerful propulsions and got tangled around her head...revealing...nothing...

"Well, that's interesting," I said, my mouth hanging open.

Daisy pushed herself forward on her couch and pushed her cane into my jaw, closing the gap that had been my mouth. "Now, Nick...he he he he he he he he, that's not very nice!"

By now, Jordan was directly in front of us, her dress back in place, now floating pleasantly on the slight breeze that filtered through an open window.

I saw upon closer inspection that she had well defined muscle....very well defined muscle...so much that her biceps bulged threateningly.

"Yo! Hobo man! Wazzup homie-g? How's life in the hood? Word," Jordan cooed in a manly voice.

I shifted my weight nervously. "I'm...I'm...I'm honoured to...meet your...aquaintance, Mr...?"

"No, no, its Miss...Always has been...Miss Jordan Baker," she said, extending a large slightly hairy hand.

It was a man hand.

Compelled by the rules of polite society, I extended my own...slowly and cautiously.

She grabbed my hand.

That was the last I saw it for a good minute.

'Miss' Baker had a very firm handshake...need I stress VERY FIRM.

When she finally released my hand, I felt me knees give out..."I think I need an X-Ray," I hissed, clutching my injured hand to chest in the way of a mother protecting her only child.

"Tee he he he he he he he he he he he he," Daisy squealed.

I rolled my eyes.

"I am SOOOOO happy to see you again! Did you have a nice trip, dear hobo cousin?"

I sighed deeply. "You know, packing yourself into a shipping crate and sending yourself COD to New York City with only one air hole isn't exactly a barrel of laughs. But, I didn't have enough money to buy a ticket...its a wee bit of a problem, you know."

Daisy giggled slightly and said, "I can help you, dear hobo cousin Nick," and with that, she pulled a roll of money from the V of her dress before throwing it up in the air.

Like snow on Christmas, the bills fluttered down around me, littering the ground in green paper.

My pride, never really there, did not stop me from squatting down and scrapping up all the money, eagerly as a rabid raccoon attacks its prey, the elusive garbage can.

Just then, a rather fat woman stuck her head up into the open window. Hands grasping the windowsill, she pulled herself up, looked around for a moment then dropped back down...rather like a chipmunk sticking its head out of its hole...a moment later, she reappeared and said in a sharp buzzing voice, "You didn't see me."

Then there was a loud thump, an even louder "Oof" and an even louder still sound of grotesque singing thumping away.

I glanced at the other women.

Daisy, who was still lying on the couch...as usual...had dissolved into pitiful sobs... "That poor woman needs a womanly voice...she sounds like a mix of a foghorn and a man with a head cold...Lord have mercy on us all..."

Jordan offered me a sideways glance, as though sizing me up to eat, that made me feel uncomfortable.

Fortunately for me, the stalking tiger did not have time to pounce. The phone rang.

Jordan swore under her breath and pulled from behind her toned body an extendable arm with hook at the end. She grabbed the phone and slowly, seductively, pulled it to her. "Whazza?!"

I heard the buzzing noise again. That god-awful, disgrace to the word voice, sound. It was so terrible that I covered my ears in agony, curled into a ball on the floor and attempted to comfort myself by rocking back and forth.

When I saw Jordan hang up the phone, again with the claw, I unfurled from the rocking ball that I had become. I stood up and brushed myself up.

Daisy continued to cry.

Jordan pushed herself over to me and grabbed my arm in a tight grip, pulling me down to her level. "That was Tom's lover!" s...he whispered giddily into my ear, her hot breath blowing on my ear uncomfortably.

I tried to pull away.

I honestly did.

But the woman was too bloody strong.

My arm was loosing blood at a rapid pace and I fainted.

While I was unconscious, Jordan went to bed...I think it was because of her departure that I woke, actually.

Tom had appeared sometime...I don't know how, and I don't know when, but he was there and that was what mattered.

He and Daisy were giggling as I stirred and Daisy immediately accosted me by saying, "You should like Jordan! I order you to like her! He he he he he he he he he eh."

I blushed.

Hardly manly, I know.

But, if they were going to set me up with Jordan...well, she was manly enough for the two of us.

"I don't think it will work..." I said nervously.

So I left.

I left abruptly.

And that's what I did.

Lights fade and Nick hobbles alone down the streets of East Egg until reaching West Egg and his dilapidated excuse for a home. He falls on Gatsby's doorstep, unable to go any farther.

Chapter 2

Several nights later, I wandered towards New York City. I had befriended a fellow hobo by the name of Crazy Lloyd. He was a great man, though he did smell a bit. Possibly because he lived near the Pile of Crap, located directly under the Butt of Professor XYZ Fickleburn. It was a big butt, not unlike two big moons hovering over us.

So Crazy Lloyd and me walked and walked and walked some more. Until, Crazy Lloyd went crazy and jumped into the Pile of Crap and was never seen again.

Very distraught, I happened across Tom, who was staggering drunkenly down the back alleys of East Egg. With nothing better to do, we decided to catch a ride on the bus and go to the city.

We soon arrived at Mr. George Wilson's crack house. It was a teaming party. People lay sprawled about, babbling incoherently.

It was then that I first lay eyes on the bulk of Mrs. Wilson...ie, Myrtle...the lady with the buzzing voice.

My breath was taken away at the horrific sight.

Myrtle...Myrtle was fat.

Allow me to be blunt...

She was enormously fat.

Although, she wore her bulk well, like an elephant...a fat elephant.

Seeing Tom across the room, Myrtle rushed over, parting the crowd like the Red Sea.

Somehow, Mr. Wilson failed to see the connection between the two and after some time, the three of us, Tom, Myrtle and myself, took our leave.

"He thinks I'm visiting my sister, hea hea hea hea," Myrtle buzzed.

Tom laughed and I grimaced and shuddered.

We went to another apartment, where coincidentally, Myrtle's sister was...along with some couple...they really matter.

The events that followed were rich in booze and curses. Finally the legitimate couples, in other words everybody except Tom Myrtle, and me left.

"Daisy, Daisy, D-D-Daisy!" Myrtle sibilated.

"Shut up! Don't say that name!!!!" Tom roared, pitching his beer bottle at her.

With surprising agility for one so large, Myrtle dodged the bottle. "DAISY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" She squealed.

Tom pushed himself off the chair, kicked the dog that had wandered into the room from outside, and punched Myrtle in the nose.

Blood flecks spattered the room and I passed out...I was morbidly afraid of blood.

I woke up in a ditch and wandered aimlessly until I was knocked over the head with a board by an anonymous stranger.

Chapter 3

After my midnight drunken sojourn, I was invited to a party by Gatsby to come to one of his elaborate parties. I still didn't know who exactly this Gatsby figure was but I went anyway.

There was an old Finnish woman living with me...I don't know how she got there but she was there...she was the closest thing to a wife I'll probably ever have. She cleaned me up with a Moist Towelette ® and forced me to buy a genuine shower...and a toilet. I didn't see the purpose...you could always use a pot...but that's beside the point. The point is that I was a clean man! NO more hobo express for me! She gave me her money...and disappeared one day...still don't know what happened to her. But she was a great woman...what was her name anyway?

I strolled jauntily over to Gatsby's home, feeling like a new man and more than ready to give up the reputation of neighborhood hobo.

The inside of his house was ginormous...not gigantic, not enormous, but ginormous. The people inside were exceptionally rich and all of them seemed to be drunk.

I met up with Jordan, who somehow was still on the couch. I strode over to her and she attacked my hand with her own mannish one, while making a comment about how handsome I was without the dirt. The first thing that popped into my head was how had Jordan gotten her couch over to Gatsby's house but my attention was diverted as soon as she started talking trash about Tom.

"He's a playa! Fo shizzle..."

I tuned it out after that.

Sometime that night, I got introduced to Gatsby, the wealthy man hosting the party.

Immediately, I remembered seeing him sobbing in the moonlight but it was pushed out of my head as soon as he spoke.

"How are you, old sport?" Gatsby said in a drawling-monotone voice.

Thinking of the common hobo greeting, I grabbed his upper arm and sniffed him. "Peachy keen, jelly bean!"

"Look at this old sport! It's the TI-10000! It's a hydro-calculator! Works up to three feet under water. Mwhahahahahahahahahaha! It's better than anything Tom could have! He only has the TI-9998, the simpleton. I win! Daisy will never leave me now! HA HA!!!!"

Everything that followed was maniacal laughter and indistinguishable words of revenge.

Chapter 4

Journal Entry of Nick Carraway –

Nothing has happened lately...life is dull. Gatsby has numerous parties and has asked me to invite Daisy over to my house for tea. I guess he wants to get together with her...fancy that...Other than that...life is dull...I'm getting my grass cut...yippee! Talk about exciting...I met this mate of Gatsby's the other night...quite an interesting fellow...name's Wolfsheim, Meyer Wolfsheim...he fixed the election in 2000...clever chap...wish he had given me one of his toenail buttons...they were neato...that's all...

Love,

Myself...but I already knew that didn't I? Is it odd that I'm having a conversation with myself? Nah...

Chapter 5

I'm having a tea party today! And Gatsby is going to 'just so happen' to come over to borrow a cup of sugar...he might get sugar too...if he's lucky.

For some reason, he's obsessed with my snotty rich cousin Daisy...how's here now!

Fancy that!

"Daisy, how are you? Did you have a good trip?"

Daisy's butler opened the door and she stepped out gingerly. 'She walks!' I thought to myself.

"Oh, it was excellent, dear, currently-non-hobo cousin of mine! But terribly tired...as usual, that walking four feet was simply too much. I'm quite overcome...may I come inside?"

"No," I said jokingly. "Jk jk! Just jk'ing You know you can, love!"

Daisy smirked and said, "Go drive Sherwin. His name is Sherwin, you know. Now help me in."

Then, surprisingly enough, she launched herself into my arms and ordered me to carry her like a bride across the threshold.

I set her down on a chair and then, there was a knock at the window...why didn't people use doors these days? I opened the window and in crawled Jay Gatsby.

"'Lo old sport! Can I trouble you for a cup of sugar...Oh, you have company...Hello Daisy..."

"I'm Daisy..." she cooed. "I sit around all day..."

"Yes, and you look beautiful from it. Can you love me again, please?" Gatsby said embarrassed.

"Never! You need more money!"

"Come to my house and I'll show you my house!" Gatsby said seductively. "You come too, Nick."

I didn't have a choice...Gatsby pulled me out of the room and threw Daisy over his shoulder, like a cave man carrying a slab of meat.

"OOH, Jay! You're so strong and manly!" Daisy squealed. "Look at the light, your yard catches the light...how it glitters...like the jewels you couldn't give me..."

Gatsby nodded sanctimoniously. "Yup."

He pulled us into the house and up to the bedroom. He flung Daisy onto the bed and started pulling everything out of his closet. Coins and brightly colored shirts flew everywhere.

"Ooh, Jay, you're so dreamy. Let me slobber all over your shirts and affects," Daisy cooed.

"I know, dear. Now love me! Like you did when we met! I'm rich now! Rich girls DO marry rich boys, you know!" Gatsby said with surprising inflection in his voice.

Gatsby clapped his hands twice and a short man came scurrying in.

"You called, massa?" he asked.

"This is Klipspringer...he's my manservant," Gatsby informed us before turning to the small, underfed man. "PLAY NOW!!!" he roared.

Klipspringer immediately pulled up a seat at the piano that was conveniently in the hallway and played 'Love Me Tender,' by Elvis.

Gatsby grinned as Daisy sobbed in a tearstained ball amongst the shirts...I forget what happened next...it was too painful to remember.

Chapter 6

The next week passed slowly. The only interesting thing that happened was the arrival of one Jade Stone, a quite annoying reporter who likes to eat small children for breakfast. She came to Gatsby's house one day in hopes of an interview. But Gatsby quickly ran her out by pointing a gun at her.

"Darn reporters" Gatsby said after she left. "You wanna know my past, bub?" He rambled holding a bottle of brandy and waving it around wildly.

"Sure" I said.

"Well, here goes. When I was a young lad, I was a girl. My parents decided to make me a boy. They were quite happy with the results. And besides...if I was still a girl my love for Daisy wouldn't be accepted by society. And we would of had to get unisex bathrooms in the country club. I didn't want to go to college...my life goal was to dig ditches. Dig ditches 24 hours a day. Then one day, the ditch I was digging filled with water in a flash flood. As I almost drowned, I saw a bright light coming towards me. It was the headlight of the car of Wilhelm Bockshiibeck. He scooped me up and carried me away to somewhere I don't remember. Seven months later, Wilhelm, good old Willie as I called him, had nursed me back to health. With warm milk and cookies. I think I was in the North Pole. Then one day, good old Willie sat me down on his knee and said, "Jeremiah Getotskowitch, what do you want for Christmas?"

I responded by saying, "Poppa Willie, all I want for Christmas is my two front teeth. And the purdiest girl this side of Arkansas."

And before I knew it, I was whooshed to a place. I blacked out.

I woke up several days later, on the altar of the Sascyahicyquimaha, god of heathen sacrifices, in Boise, Idaho, with 5 million dollars.

The problem with that was that when you are being turned over open flames on a spit, 5 million dollars.

But I don't have bad luck.

There was a thunderstorm and the fire went out and the villagers melted into puddles of wax. Now I could have a party! Whoo hoo!

And hence, everything that has happened since has gotten me to where I am today...the end!"

"But...but...what about Daisy?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, her. She was on the spit next to me...and that's how we met. We...yeah...we did cough"

I blushed. "That's my cousin," I squealed girlishly.

"And a great cousin she is...a GREAT cousin! MWHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Gatsby cackled.

"Ew! Gross!" I said.

I then left the room. When I returned, a party had magically appeared. We all got drunk and then Tom threw up on the floor. Gatsby saved it to make a voodoo doll. I wet myself and went home where I cried myself to sleep.

Chapter 7

There was a sudden cold spurt. For some reason, instead of the summer getting steadily warmer as July passed, it got cold...very, very cold. So cold that the harbor froze and instead of driving to Daisy's, I ice-skated across the bay.

I walked into Daisy's mansion, without removing my skates, and hobbled into the sitting room. As usual, Jordan and Daisy were lying about. For some odd reason, Gatsby was there as well.

Tom left the room to make a car payment and Daisy runs over to Gatsby and flings herself upon him.

They kiss.

And kiss.

And kiss some more.

Daisy pulled away from Gatsby momentarily and says quickly, "Kiss him! Kiss him, Jordan!!!!"

Jordan looked at me and beckoned me over with her mannish hands...as was her custom. I shifted my weight nervously...I didn't enjoy public displays of affection...

I moved over to Jordan and pecked her on the cheek.

Just then, a loud booming voice sounded from the middle of nowhere saying, "NO PUBLIC DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION!!!! NO PDA FOR YOU!"

I jerked my head away from Jordan and saw the Butt of Professor XYZ Fickleburn floating above us...how it was there, I didn't know...but the Butt knew all...and so it was and so it will be...and it is good.

Then, a small, greasy, fat child came thumping its way into the room.

"MOMMY!" it said...I wouldn't have known if it weren't for the fact that it was wearing a dress that it was a girl...but I had doubts, nonetheless.

Daisy turned and beamed at the thing. "Come to Mommy, dear heart!"

The child pounded its way across the room and jumped into Daisy's outstretched arms...both mother and spawn fell to the ground, with a loud "Oof!"

"Da! Da! Da! Ehan, ehan," it said.

I stared open-mouthedly at the child. "Does it speak English?" I asked hesitantly.

"No, actually, it speaks a Middle Eastern dialect called Hitackaaaarfjnklsd," Daisy said. "The language is also known as the official language of Hell...but I don't know how she picked it up..."

That had to be the most intelligent sentence I had ever heard Daisy say in my life..."Could it be that she's the Spawn of Satan?" I asked innocently.

Daisy frowned and attempted to pick up the child...who whacked her in the face with the spine of a book...a book that had magically appeared... "She doesn't look like me..." Daisy said calmly to Gatsby. "But she doesn't look like Tom either."

I studied the child with great curiosity. Indeed Daisy was right. The child had dark hair, severe eyebrows, fiery red eyes and large chapped lips, and a lot of crusty buggers hanging from the pencil like nose that protruded from its chubby face.

The child pulled itself away from Daisy and thumped over to Gatsby. It climbed up onto his sofa and kicked him in the personals...

"Thiave cidaiffds aoueeeeeex quiidmdlam!" it bellowed before it thundered out of the room.

Gatsby collapsed, tears streaming from his eyes.

My heart went out to him.

Tom came back into the room and said, "Let's go! Let's go!"

The Butt of Professor XYZ Fickleburn floated into the room and roared, "2 minutes! 2 minutes! You have 2 minutes!"

So, we piled into cars and left.

Myrtle died.

Daisy's Spawn of Satan had murdered her...using Daisy as a conduit for assassination...

Fancy that!

Tom cried...Myrtle's lifeless feet fluttered in the frigid breeze of the July evening, as if trying to run from the Spawn...but failing...

Always failing...

There was no escape...

Not from the Spawn...

Not from the Pile of Crap that was life...

Tom and Daisy ate roast pork noodles and discussed how they could live happily ever after...(coincidentally, that plan involved leaving the Spawn of Satan with Nick and going to Europe.)

And so it was that I became the bearer of the Spawn for the months that Daisy and Tom meandered around Europe, free and content...

While they were gone...I suffered...Oh, how I suffered...the thing didn't listen, didn't speak English, didn't eat, didn't sleep, just EXISTED...existed in some sadistic state and made my life a living nightmare.

Chapter 8

They die.

Everyone.

The Spawn attacked.

Klipspringer survived and asked for his tennis shoes back...but they had become fuel for the Spawn...

I ran away.

I ran far away.

And spent millions of dollars trying to forget this nightmare...which ironically, I am getting paid millions of dollars to remember...

And so it was and so it ended.

Fin


End file.
